Web of Lies
by Robin Birdie
Summary: Wade is in trouble. Tony is sure he's lying, which means he needs someone to defend him . . . will Spider-Man be able to help save Wade from punishment? (One-Shot)


**A/N: **Written for Eternity Locket :)

**Web of Lies**

"You did this, Wilson! _You_!"

Tony jabbed his hand against Wade's chest. It was quite a violent point that forced Wade back a step, but the idea that some _bastard_ could aggressively threaten him like that -! Okay, he experienced worse from other heroes, but those were _heroes_, not some drunk with a misplaced grudge! Wade looked down to see that finger now inches from his nose and shaking just slightly, and he wondered whether it would grow back if he snapped it off. _Not likely_. It's possible, ours does.Wade rolled his eyes and ignored the boxes.

It was a little intimidating to be surrounded by Avengers, especially when he was stuck in Stark Tower after a heavy battle, and he could _feel_ the hostility rolling off them in waves. He looked around and tried to suppress the desire to act out, as he was vastly outnumbered and didn't want to spend several weeks trying to pick pieces of brain matter out of his suit. _Yuck, it's clinging to us!_ We didn't notice until you pointed it out. Wade rolled his shoulders and felt the drying blood limit his movements and heard the crackle of it moving, but it _was_ kind of gross now he thought about it, although the Avengers looked in worse ware. Heck, Bruce still had a creepy green glow in his eye, not to mention was wearing more red than green!

"I didn't fucking screw up, Stark!"

"We had a plan," snapped Tony. "You didn't follow the plan!"

"How can I fucking follow a plan I didn't know existed? Well, even if I knew, I wouldn't follow it, because – hey – everyone loves a good improvisation piece, right? It's like_ Whose Line_, except it's _Whose Plan _-! Still, your plan so your responsibility! Ha!"

"Don't you _dare_ lay this on me! I _knew_ you were too much of a risk to -!"

"I took a break! So what? It wasn't me!"

Tony moved to step forward, but Wade bristled and stood straight. He felt his biceps bulge with the fury that he felt, as well as his hands clench, and there was even a squeak from his costume with the strength of his grip. It was hard to remain calm when they kept on pushing his buttons! Okay, so he messed up . . . a lot . . . plus there was always collateral damage whenever he worked a mission, so most insurance companies offered a hefty discount when their clients uttered 'Deadpool', but still -!

He tried to still his heart when Steve stepped in, because – even after so many relationships and marriages – there was just something about 'Captain America' that got the blood racing pretty fast . . . _racing south, more like_ . . . I believe the quick heart rate is due primarily to anger. The ex-icicle decided to put a hand upon Tony and hold him back, whilst the other man tried hard to get past him and make a scene, and – realising that he was safe with Steve safe-guarding him – he raised his hands in a taunting gesture and grinned behind his mask. It was enough to cause Tony to lurch forward, only to be stopped once more.

Bruce looked up almost lazily from a sofa nearby, as he picked off clumps of what looked like pink 'silly string' from his purple trousers and bare chest, and Natasha stood by a far wall in a rather intimidating position. He blew them a kiss through his mask, but both just glared darkly. Sam sat on a barstool on the other side of the room, where he smirked and shook his head, and Clint sat next to him with a grin, too, and – all in all – it was nice to see the group all together, sans Thor . . . _I miss Thor, guy was ripped_.

"Look, the rocket was mine, I'll admit –"

"Any reason why you tied a bunch of birds to it?" Tony spat.

"Hey, I know the guy you're after!" Wade argued. "He's allergic to feathers! I figured that at least robins are red, plus red's the best colour ever, so what better way to get the guy all sneezing and spluttering and incapacitate him! Plus, I had a spare rocket! What would you have done, Stark? Rockets are made to be shipped! _Do you ship a rocket? _I believe you _launch_ a rocket. _Really?_ That doesn't sound right."

Tony took a step back and glared darkly at Wade. The battle was over and he honestly wasn't sure what was the tin man's problem! It wasn't as if Wade could _remember_ doing anything he shouldn't, although he'd admit that his memory was spotty at best, but he would have remembered doing something to piss off the Avengers . . . right? Wade lifted his mask just enough to bare his face, before he turned his head to spit on the floor. There was a swirl of blood in the saliva, whilst Tony winced and made to dive forward again, but Wade only laughed and rubbed the leftover trail on his chin. Tony was easy to tease.

"You need to be institutionalised," spat Tony.

"Ouch, right where it hurts!"

Wade laughed . . .

_. . . it made the pain so much easier._

_The needle always started as a sharp sting, something that pierced his skin and burned his flesh, until he thought the vein would tear in two . . . those were good days . . . samples taken, notes written, bridges burned. He tried to remember how it felt before his skin itched. Itch. Itch. Itch. There were times when he wanted to scratch it off. The pain was worse . . . always worse, but the itch came first . . . sometimes. Maybe he didn't fear the itch, but feared the lack of pain . . . a lack of pain meant more pain was to come._

_Only breaks, never ends! He wanted to run away, but they always brought him back. 'You did volunteer, but you're in our care now'. They knew what was best. The first doctors with their restraints . . . always chemical, never leather or chains . . . he missed leather and chains, at least they were fun when they were for play and not purpose. The second doctor was not a doctor, but a barbarian. White coats! Red ledgers! Dark shadows! Got to make it stop, got to make the pain stop! No. No, death is always in the shadow . . . just out of reach, the tease! He tried over and over . . . 'can't even kill yourself right' . . . failure._

_Death came. Wrong person. The blood was on his hands. They wanted vengeance . . . ghosts in his head or real? He couldn't breathe. It oppressed him, like the biggest prison of all, with his head in a vice-like grip . . . a weight on his chest . . . panic. Yes, panic. He tried over and over to fight the fear, but so many hospitals and doctors and experiments . . . no one wanted to help, only hinder. Hinder, funny word. The voice was good company. The voice understood. The second voice was . . . _mad_ . . . but it understood, too._

_Did that make him mad? The world spun on and on, but none of it was real. They wrote him this way . . . they thought his pain was funny! You're laughing now. No, you're trying to make sense of the stream of consciousness . . . trying to make sense of _me_! I'm not that easy, no. I'm not – I'm not going back there! It began there. This madness. _

_Don't send me back. Don't write me that way. Don't make me crazy._

_I can't go back to the pain._

Oh God, he was crying with laughter!

Wade raised a hand to his mask to wipe away the tears, but he forgot that – with the mask – he was unable to touch skin. It was a blessing in a way. Lately, he was going through a rough patch with his skin, and it was unbearable on bad days! Hell, even the touch of the sheets in bed was enough to make it feel like a friction burn, and yet the prospect of pain wasn't what bothered him. He was _used_ to pain, for fuck's sake! It was more that he let the mask define him, so that he forgot what was real and what wasn't. Was he now the mask?

He felt his blood run cold and gritted his teeth, until he was half-certain that he felt one crack and opened them enough to put his tongue between, until he bit through his tongue instead. The taste of blood made him feel sick. It made him want to spit again, which he did, but this time without the good humour of before, and – when he finished – he lowered his mask and glared over at Tony. The fury was all consuming.

"Just fucking try to lock me away," he spat.

Tony blanched and looked ready to attack him, but a cough came from the side. It caused them to turn and look, where a certain someone was dangling from the ceiling, and – all of a sudden – Wade felt his heart palpitate and his palms grow sweaty. He swallowed hard and tried to fight back the waves of interest he felt on seeing Spider-Man, because he _knew_ he had less chance with Spidey than he did with Black Widow! Still, it didn't hurt a guy to dream, and _loads_ of the best romances were based on friendship, and weren't the best friendships based on accidentally throwing one guy off a bridge? _Sure!_ No.

"Er, plaintiff for the defendant?" Spidey said.

"Spidey's going to defend me?" Wade clapped his hands together. "I knew you loved me! Don't get me wrong; I'd rather have She-Hulk back my case . . . Shulky! That chick's trained in this sort of stuff! Not to mention a Team Red member that I so suspect -!"

"Shut it, Wade! Don't make me change my mind!"

"Hey, don't be mean, baby -!"

Spider-Man shot a web over Wade's mouth. It left Wade glaring at him through his mask, as he muttered several curses, before finally ripping the webbing away . . . it stuck to his palm and felt kind of weird . . . _how'd you know with gloves? _It kind of reminds you of something._ It's not warm enough for that!_ Wade barely noticed when Spider-Man dropped down and walked over to stand by his side, but – strangely – he _did_ notice that he was the only person in the room with a secret identity. It was hard not to feel a tad resentful about that.

"Want to tell me what my client did?" Spider-Man asked.

"You _know_ what he did!" Tony cried. "That rocket went off _way_ to soon, which – trust me – is _not_ a sentence I've ever had to say before, no matter what Pepper says! It gave our guy an escape root, where suddenly . . . pink frosting! I don't even know _how_ you get that much pink frosting, but it covered us on our exit and let the bad guy escape! Guess who strolls around the corner with a taco in pearls of laughter?"

"Didn't he say he was on a break? I'm not the one with iron in my ears, so I may have missed that part, but I've been hanging around since the conversation began. It sounded like he said he was on a break. Rockets can be pre-programmed, too. You know that, Tony."

"Awfully convenient it was pre-programmed in a way that the guy got away!"

"Look, I helped make the rocket. I was away, too. Want to blame me?"

"You're Spider-Man! Not _Deadpool_!"

_Ouch, that's got to sting!_

Wade realised that Spider-Man _had_ helped him programme the rocket, as the idea was to use it as a distraction to force the guy to use the front exit, which – Wade would add – he _did_ end up using, so _really_ his plan worked! Still, he also realised that Spider-Man was missing too, because he was called away elsewhere, but no one blamed _him_, but who would? Oh, _Wade_ was the bad guy, but it was a role he was happy to play, only . . . he did want to be a hero, he did! It was just hard to try when no one _cared_ about his efforts! Still, _Spidey_ cared.

He looked around the room to see a few of the Avengers leaving, whilst Tony looked somewhat red in the face and pretty pissed, but it was hard to care much what the old drunk thought when he didn't care about Wade in turn. Spider-Man scratched at his neck and walked over in a rather laidback manner, until he was directly in front of Wade and Wade noticed that the younger man was going commando again, which was _not_ a bad thing, because _damn_ he had a quarter you could bounce an ass off! I don't think that's right. He could have covered it in frosting and -! Wait, that was right! Why did he forget?

"I don't even like the pink kind," Wade muttered.

"He's right," said Spider-Man. "He doesn't. I brought some pastry with pink frosting this one time; he dropped it onto some pedestrian's head. A reporter took a photo. I was on the front page as a 'menace to society'. The mother-hugger left me _fifty-six_ pink-frosted pastries as an apology. I think I gave them to the children's ward of the hospital, but – yeah – he likes them just about as much as he likes chimichangas. Trust me."

"Is that right?" Tony asked coldly. "I have it on good authority that your friend here is a big fan of chimichangas. Anyway, it's not as though he planned to _eat_ the damned stuff! You want to explain how he was appeared right at the _exact_ moment to laugh at us?"

"Isn't that circumstantial evidence? Isn't up to you to prove his guilt, not me his innocence?"

"This isn't a court of law, Spider-Man! I don't need evidence!"

"_Evidently_," quipped Spider-Man.

Wade smirked behind his mask. It was actually kind of nice to know that Spidey paid attention to him, because even _he_ forgot about the important stuff at times! Yeah, 'chimichanga' was a fun word to say, especially if you chanted it, but they tasted kind of funny and weren't the best of Mexican cuisine! Fuck, if Spider-Man could get him off, he'd let him take of a bite of the _biggest_ chimichanga ever! That wasn't even a euphemism! Actually, if Spider-Man _wanted_ to take a bite of that, Wade wouldn't say 'no', but then that would be a treat for Wade and not one for Spidey, so . . . yeah, actual chimichangas it was!

"Look, I was with him when this went down! It wasn't him!"

"You were with him?" Tony asked suspiciously.

"Yes," Spider-Man lied. "I wanted some food, so I ditched duties to go get some. I didn't think you guys would run into any problems with a routine mission, so I guess the guy had an accomplice . . . you owe Wade an apology. The good kind, not the sarcastic kind."

Tony rolled his eyes and looked to Wade. The mercenary raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, unsure whether to question Spidey's lie or just roll with it, but clearly Tony had too much of an iron rod up his ass to apologise, because he instead turned heels and stormed away, whilst Steve and Natasha followed. That left Spider-Man and Wade alone in the lounge without anyone around. It was nice, almost like a date, but not quite! Wade clasped his hands together and leaned dreamily into Spidey's space. _This is awesome!_ I suppose.

Okay, so the white box wasn't enthusiastic, but he was probably just jealous! Spider-Man was a little shorter than Wade, which was _so_ adorable, but he knew how to take charge and could put those webs to good use! The other man walked about a little bit, as if to make sure that everyone was gone, before he turned around with a heavy sigh and slumped his shoulders just a little. Wade wondered whether he could hire Spidey as his personal lawyer, because he was just so _awesome_! Wait, why did Spidey sigh? Did he do something wrong? He hated when Spidey was disappointed, because that usually meant he was disappointed with Wade, but Wade was trying so hard to be a hero and –

"I'm sorry I got you in trouble," said Spider-Man.

"Hey, you got me _off_, baby boy! Oh, that sounds dirty! It's true, though! You know, I have this poster of you above my bed; it's _totally_ the best! Still, my own spider-webs aside, because – well – I can't shoot _that_ far, so no competition really! Why did you -?"

"Stick up for your perverted self? Well, I – er – borrowed the Iron Spider costume that Tony's been working on, which would have been fine, except I made some adjustments. The 'pink frosting' is actually a derivative of the web-fluid I use in my web-shooters, as I was working on something that would be more durable and last longer, but I miscalculated the amounts and instead of white webs . . . pink foam happened."

Wade burst out into laughter, as he clapped a hand upon Spider-Man's shoulder, before he bent double and felt himself begin to cry with the force of the laughter, and eventually Spider-Man shot his mask with webbing again. It was easy enough to remove, but that didn't stop Spider-Man from continuing his assault and webbing him upside-down to the ceiling, where Wade found himself unable to struggle, as he was _still_ too busy laughing, even as it caused his cocoon to shake and waver. Eventually he stopped, only to start again.

"It's not that funny, Wade," Spider-Man snapped.

"Oh, it is! I now have _leverage_," said Wade. "Say, I know a guy like you is probably taken already, but how about a date? The pink frosting can be on me . . . literally! Unless you don't swing that way . . . get it? _Swing_. It's because you -!"

"I get it! I have a girlfriend, but you can take me on a _platonic_ date, sure."

"Aw? Seriously? Fine! Still, if you guys ever break up -!"

"Then we can go on a real date, sure."

Wade smiled brightly, even as Spider-Man rubbed the bridge of his nose through his mask, and – as he mentally planned the date in his head – the other man began to slowly walk away, which would have been fine, but . . . he need to pee! The last time he was tied up and needed to pee -! Well -! It took him _pages_ to actually do it, because he was so desperate! _How long does the webbing take to dissolve?_ I think it depends on the universe. _That sounds a bit deep, dude. _No, I mean -! Damn it! If he peed like this, it'd go all over his face!

"Er, Spidey? Can you untie me? Please? Pretty please?"

"Just hang around for a while," said Spider-Man.

"I – I want to get down now!"

Spider-Man flipped him off and walked away. Eventually he would be back, because he was a pretty stand-up guy, unlike the other Avengers, but that could be ages and he needed to pee _now_ and -! Damn it, Spider-Man was already gone. Wade began to fidget and clench, as he tried to stop from peeing. He wondered whether this was just playful teasing, like flirting or something, because – if so – he could deal with that!

_He's so into us!_ Of course, look at us!

"Oh yeah, he likes us!"


End file.
